The Father
by DollaMac
Summary: The boy was either incredibly bold or just plain stupid. Bruce looked down at him with astonishment, his face gradually relaxed into a smile, and then he laughed outright. A familiar story with some new twists.
1. Chapter 1

**_The Father _**

* * *

It was cold, and he was surprised he felt cold. It had been a long, long time since he'd noticed something as mundane as weather. As if seeing it for the first time, Bruce stared at the remnants of snow all around him and shivered. But the weather was only a temporary distraction. From his current position, he could see the Batmobile parked one block away. He had spotted it propped up on cinderblocks, three of the wheels missing, the culprit loosening the lug nuts on last tire. He couldn't believe his eyes at first. To think someone had the gall to steal from him. The boy was either incredibly bold or just plain stupid. Bruce looked down at him with astonishment, his face gradually relaxed into a smile, and then he laughed outright. With his disheveled hair and grubby face, leather vest and hobnailed boots, the boy looked like the trademark of teenage ignorance. There had been numerous police reports of tire and rim thief in Crime Ally, but Bruce didn't have the time to investigate the smaller crimes. The Gothem police force was well capable. Still he had never encountered such a young thief.

Now it was time to introduce himself.

The masked vigilante stepped off the rooftop ledge and glided gracefully to the ground. Bruce said nothing as he walked into the dark alley, nor did he give any indications of interest. Yet the boy tensed, as if sensing danger. The boy stood up and slowly backed away to the other side of the Batmobile, bracing himself. The boy's eyes never left his as he approached, by the time they stood only a few yards apart, the battle lines had been clearly drawn.

Bruce smirked, "Well finish the job, boy?"

The boy remained still watching him with an oddly grave intentness. Suddenly, unexpectedly, the child smiled, showing all his teeth. "Who says I took 'em?"

"What else is the tire iron for?"

The boy's eyes narrowed.

"Big fuckin' deal! So you caught me. What are you going to do, call the police?"

"I don't think so. They'd probably be more interested in me than you."

The boy seemed to consider this for a moment, and then he slowly came a few steps closer. His face pale, but his icy blue eyes shinned. Bruce stared into those eyes, and saw nothing but himself.

"You will put my tires back on." he ordered sternly.

Unfazed, the boy stood his ground. "And if I don't?"

Bruce towered over the young boy; his mask did little to hide his scowl.

The boy simply laughed. "If you're trying to scare me, you're fucking it up."

"I'll do more than scare you." Bruce said.

The boy laughed again. "You gonna' send me away to one of those juvenile delinquent centers. Well, that's not going to work. _**Help **_all you want, but I always end up back here."

"You want to live on the streets?

"This is my turf. This is all I know. I don't want to be a charity case."

Bruce remained silent, contemplating his words.

"What is your name?" The detective asked.

The question caught the boy off-guard.

"J-Jason." The boy said timidly. He considered giving him a false name briefly, but realized how meaningless that would be.

"Jason Todd."

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**Music: The Father OST- Let the Right One In. **


	2. Chapter 2

**With the Rain**

* * *

The boy stared into a murky puddle, saw a distorted reflection of himself, and spit at it.

Jason hated the rain.

What had been a light sprinkle when Jason left his apartment had now turned into a heavy downpour that hammered the streets with a defying blast. Jason tugged the hood of his jacket up and rubbed his arms, brushing the water away. His entire body was trembling, his wet clothes clinging to his drenched body like a second layer of skin. He was tempted to take shelter and wait out the storm, but he couldn't turn back now.

Jason bent his head against the pelting rain and trudged forward.

Every time it rained, Jason remembered the feeling he was having now. He had it before, a long time ago. He felt empty, and strangely heavy, like gravity was pulling him toward the floor.

It was raining when his mother died.

Jason was hysterical and struggled with police and ambulance paramedics when they took him away from her body. Two police officers tried to comfort him. When the officers reached for him, he shook out of their grasp. When they grabbed him, he hit anything he could connect with. Everyone was relieved when Jason was dragged inside the patrol car. The way Jason screamed was too terrible to hear, as though he was dying without her there. There were no sirens when the ambulance pulled away, only the sound of rain, slushing down the gutters into the storm drains.

Jason had always had a strong sense of pride because he always managed to scrape by. No one ever helped him. Hell he had been taking care of his mother since he could comprehend English. Jason raised himself while heroin slowly sucked the life out of her. She never did anything for him, so why did he miss her so?

He did not want to think of his mother anymore. He did not want to fight back tears.

A car came up behind him, stretching out his shadow. Jason dashed into an alley behind two buildings, where there would be plenty of hiding places.

Gotham City couldn't afford the maintenance on street lights in poorer areas. Crime Alley was literally left in the dark. There was barely any visibility, but he couldn't risk being spotted tonight. The vehicle passed, leaving the crimson of its taillights in the night.

Jason took a moment to catch his breath.

Jason leaned against the graffitied wall, and closed his eyes. He could hear his mother's voice, her words soothing and familiar. He could see her face, her blue eyes pale and haunting. Jason held back his sorrow and hardened his face. Collecting his nerves, he stepped out of the alley. Jason eyed the street up and down before he sprinted across. He hadn't run more than two blocks when the odd sensation of being watched came over him. _It's nothin'_, he thought. Still he quickened his pace, his feet pounding divots into the gravel.

The center of the city was deserted. Jason slowly passed the old courthouse, a landmark in Gotham for decades. A new granite statue dominated the entrance to the building. The imposing statue stood over two-stories high, and glared down at Jason with unforgiving eyes. Unlike the pervious statue, she wore no blindfold. In fact, her eyes were her most striking feature. A dead snake coiled around her feet, a sword pieced through its head. The base, which consisted of massive block of black granite, carried a magnificent bronze plaque.

Jason read the engraving, eyeing the craftsmanship with a skeptical frown.

_**This thing that men call justice, this blind snake that strikes men down in the dark, mindless with fury, keep your hand back from it, pass by in silence. -**__**Maxwell Anderson**_

**Donated by Wayne Enterprises**

_Justice, _Jason thought with repulsion. _What Justice? Gotham City is nothin' but a festering cesspool of crime, corruption, and sadness. _

Jason read the plaque again, but he didn't understand the words. Cold wind pressed against his body, and slipped through his wet clothing. He trembled.

Lady Justice offered no sympathy.

Jason stumbled away from the statue, unable to tear his eyes away from that cruel stone face, but desperate to get out of there.

The rain had stopped when he had reached Main Street. Ahead, a row of streetlights shined on boutiques and jewelry stores. The area was completely quiet, soundless except for Jason footsteps. Glass reflected the boy's face back at him, displays up and down the walk full of lifeless stares and fake smiles. Jason traipsed over to the closest storefront, gazing at the manikin inside for a few moments, its expensive outfit, before placing his fingertips on the glass.

It was cold.

He had around ten to fifteen minutes before the cops responded to the intrusion alarm. Not enough time to break into main display cases. If he moved fast enough, he could probably get away with most of the window merchandise. He wasn't worried about the police. He could easily lose the cops in the back alleys. All he needed was a head start.

Jason pulled out a crowbar he had tucked away in the side of his pants. The boy hefted the crowbar in his hand, gazing at his own eyes in the darkened semi-mirror, wondering if they were as dead as the manikin's.

The crowbar collided with a shatter, a million pieces of iridescent glass spiraling out around his face, haloing him in a deadly ring of shards. The boy smiled as the next window splintered beneath his suddenly powerful-seeming hands just as easily. The glass hit the concrete with a ringing clatter, slicing through Jason's ears.

Jason didn't hear the footsteps behind him. At that point he was too gone to care, but the sound of the voice, so intoxicatingly familiar, was enough to make Jason pause.

"Jason." The man repeated his name again, and fear bubbled like acid in Jason's stomach. Jason didn't bother to turn around.

"Batman."

He tried to flee, but Bruce caught him by the hood of his jacket. Before Jason even had chance to cry out, Bruce spun him around and slammed him against the concrete wall. In that moment, the crowbar slipped from Jason's fingers. Jason's head throbbed. His shoulders throbbed in pain. It hurt him to breathe.

Bruce's blue eyes were too bright as he held Jason up against the gritty wall, fingers clenched around his shoulders like claws.

"I gave you a chance, boy. I don't like being taken advantage of. Now, why aren't you at Ma Gunn's school?"

Jason laughed, a short, harsh sound, "Swell school you enrolled me in. It's a kindergarten for crime. "

Bruce's blue eyes were intense.

"What nonsense?" Bruce's voice was unruffled despite his steel grip, as if the violence was just a tool to get Jason's attention.

"I don't have to explain anything to you." Jason exclaimed between clenched teeth.

The masked vigilante turned to look up at the empty black sky, the tendons in his neck standing out stark through his costume like cords in a machine. He murmured in his garbage disposal voice, "No, you don't. I could just leave you hanging from the nearest light post, and let the cops sort it out."

"I ain't scared of you." was Jason's reply, but he wasn't really behind it.

"I'm trying to help you!"

"Well, you're doing a fuckin' fantastic job so far!"

They were both still, sucking air into their lungs frantically, both surprised by their outbursts.

"I didn't… I don't wanna be no crook. I just boost what it takes it survive."

"You should raise your standards."

Jason shrugged. "The money keeps coming and I keep breathing. That's all that matters."

Bruce's expression darkened at his joking tone. "You've been boosting more than your usual tires."

"I had to pay my tuition." Jason said, so quiet he wouldn't have thought Batman heard him if his eyes hadn't been locked on his face, almost hungry.

"That school ain't what you think it is. Like I said before, Ma Gunn is building himself a personal army of kiddy criminals. Most the kids there are either brainwashed or brain dead from the daily beatings. I had to fight my way out of there, and when I finally escaped, he still found me. He said I had to pay him for my _education_."

Bruce stayed silent for another long moment, absorbing Jason's explanation. Jason was sort of proud of himself for being able to speak to masked man finally, for spilling the truth.

Bruce's face changed, losing some of the hardness. "Why didn't you go to the police?"

"What good would that do? Would they _help_ me like you did?"

"Jason, I never intended-"

"Save it!" Jason snapped. "I'm sick and tired of people trying to help me. I'm drowning in everyone's good intentions."

Bruce stood back abruptly, a move that made Jason's head spin slightly with its quickness, but he recovered in time to snatch his arm.

"Wait! Where are you going?" Jason said. His voice desperate, though he didn't know why.

"I'm going to pay Ma Gunn a visit." Batman said in a very low, steady voice that was somehow far more threatening than the man's prior tirade.

"You…You're just going to let me go?"

"For now. "

"Then what?"

The man had no answer.

The faint sound of police sirens echoed in the night. Jason was the first to move. Glass crunched beneath Jason's feet, sending shivers up his legs with each unstable, questionable stride.

The police sirens behind Jason were getting louder, mixing with the clanging bells firing from the vandalized stores until Jason couldn't hear any of it all. It just faded away, all the sounds canceling each other out until all that was left were his footsteps and the breathing.

Jason ran away like he always did, without looking back.

* * *

**Music: _With the Rain_ by Miika153 **

**You can find his amazing c**ompositions at youtube. Listen and enjoy.

**If you made it this far, maybe your willing to go a little farther. See that button down there... You should click it. Click it good. :D**


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